Flee
by boredsvunut
Summary: I promised, Thayet. I swore. I keep my promises." Buri deals with stubborn princesses, armies, and promises.


"Thayet." Buri felt bad for waking the princess from what little sleep she got, but that only lasted a moment. "Thayet."

Princess Thayet, Kalasin's daughter by a lowlander, sat straight up in the chair she'd fallen asleep in. "Buri?" She was awake and alert, getting to her feet as she spoke.

"We need to go," Buri said, quietly. "_Zhir_ Anduo's army is coming. The Daughters say they'll help, but we need to go."

Thayet's eyes flickered with worry; _go where,_ she was obviously wondering, but she said nothing. She went to the chest at the foot of her bed and pulled out clothes for traveling, a bedroll, and her leather packs.

Hurriedly, she shed the black mourning garments she wore for Kalasin - a ridiculous lowlander custom, the tribes mourned their dead _properly_ - and pulled on the shirt, leather jerkin, split skirt, and good boots. Into a leather pouch went the Princess' jewels, the trappings of her rank and power.

Buri raised her eyebrows. Thayet was concerned with her jewels? At a time like this? This was not the same princess she had promised to look after.

"We can sell them," the princess said, placing the pouch around her neck and hiding it beneath her shirt. "If need be."

_That_ was Thayet.

"Come on - we haven't got much time," Buri said, still furious with the Daughters for not telling them of the approaching army earlier.

Thayet followed her, out of the room and into the hall and down the stairs, out of the building that housed the convent's female residents. Across the stone courtyard, several robed Daughters of the Goddess awaited them.

The Daughters had packed things onto a donkey, and Buri sighed, seeing the children standing behind them. Two older girls and a younger boy and girl; the only students who hadn't been removed from the convent by frightened families. If they had any family left to speak of, those children were left for dead.

Thayet looked to the First Daughter. "What of the children?"

The priestess sighed. "We can only keep them here, Your Royal Highness. We have no way of knowing the fates of their families, but I..."

****

Buri swore under her breath for the first mile. She was _supposed_ to look after Thayet. Not other children. Now she had four others to worry about, four more mouths to try to feed, when she was only supposed to worry about the princess. All because Thayet had been stubborn.

Thayet glared at her as they walked, guessing what Buri was cursing about. "I was _not_ leaving them to die, Buri," she snapped. "They're our people. They didn't do anything to deserve to sit and wait for death."

Kalasin's daughter had a point. However much Buri disliked it, she had one.

"Your Highness?" One of the older girls, younger than Buri herself, spoke. "I - we can - we needn't tag along. If..."

"Stop," the princess said, firmly. "It's Thayet. I only hold a title because of my father's behavior. Unfortunately." She sighed and Buri saw the guilt on her face - of course. Thayet felt responsible for what Adigun _jin_ Wilima had done to their people.

They walked through the night until dawn, when the children began to stagger from exhaustion. Thayet walked with them, encouraging them and telling them they'd make camp soon, smiling, telling stories, singing little songs - anything to keep them moving.

"We have to stop," Thayet whispered, as the sun peaked over the mountains. "We have to. They're done in. They can't go any further."

Buri scowled. "I don't like it," she said, sourly. "We're not safe."

The princess looked sad. "Is _anywhere_ safe?"

Off the main road, under the cover of brush and trees, they made a small camp. The older girls helped fix a meal, while the younger children dozed against the broad trunk of a tree.

What little supplies the Daughters had been able to spare would not last them long. Not if they were feeding a party of six.

Thayet got up, setting aside her rough bowl. "We should be able to forage," she said, determinedly hopeful. She had heard the reports of people starving all across Sarain and the ones that stated the crops were failing. The princess was being hopeful for the sake of the little ones, Buri realized, seeing the hidden fear in Thayet's face.

"You're not going alone," Buri told her, firmly. She was _not_ letting Kalasin's daughter out of her sight for a moment. Not when she was a pawn - and the daughter of the Wilima line. "You're not."

She had promised Kalasin and Mother she would look after the princess. Allowing Thayet to wander by herself was not looking after her. "I promised, Thayet. I _swore_. I keep my promises."

"Stay here with the children," Thayet ordered, equally as stubborn. "You're keeping your promises. I'll keep to the road and I won't go far." She took up the crossbow she knew how to use. "Mother, Pathom, and Panhra didn't teach me K'miri ways for me to sit around, Buri."

Buri listened uneasily the whole time the princess was gone. The children huddled together by the small fire, the one they were taking a risk to have, and looked at her, scared, filthy from the road, and bone-tired.

She looked back at them. Thayet was better with children. Even when she was scared, Thayet was calm, always able to tell a story or soothe an upset child. Buri didn't have that. Right now, she couldn't think of anything to even say to them.

The older girls smiled, weakly - uncertain. Dark fell in, rapidly, and Buri forgot about them, worried about the princess. Had she been captured? Or killed? She should have never let her go alone, Father Storm's curses...

Kalasin's daughter stepped into the clearing, carrying her bow and what looked to be a baby. Buri was relieved to see her, but dismayed by the infant and the lack of game. "A baby, Thayet?"

"I found him in the brush," Thayet said, putting down her bow and cradling the baby with ease. "There's a burned-out farm up along the road; probably his family's."

"Dead?"

Thayet looked grim. "Yes. Someone hid him in the brush or they'd have killed him, too." She stared at the fire, the shadows giving her face even more of a sad look. "Everything is dead, here."

Buri bit back an angry retort. When Kalasin had jumped to her death last year, Buri's mother and brother had died with her and Thayet knew that. She wouldn't forget.

"We can't keep him," Buri said, flatly. "We've hardly enough to feed two, never mind six, never mind a baby along with them. We can't."

"And leave him here to die because of things my father started? That this one never had a hand in?" Thayet turned away from the fire to look at Buri. "It's not right."

"It isn't," she agreed. "I know that. But I swore to look after _you_. You can't save the world, Thayet - just like you can't save all our people from the Warlords."

The princess's face tightened. "I'm not trying to!" She glanced at the children, asleep under the shelter of the tree and lowered her voice. "I'm not. But it's not right."

"We don't even know where _we're_ going," Buri said, wearily. "Where are we going?"

Thayet shrugged. "I don't know," she admitted, finally. "There's nowhere that the army wouldn't catch up with us..."

There was no need for Thayet to finish that sentence. They both knew what would happen then. Thayet would be held to manipulate her father - or worse, killed. If the Warlord was overthrown, the one who took the throne would force Adigun _jin_ Wilima's only daughter's hand in marriage.

Buri looked down. Then around at the sleeping little ones, children who had been sent to the convent school in hopes they'd be safe, the infant resting in Thayet's arms, and finally, the princess herself. "We'll go," she said. "In the morning. All of us. I can't abandon you and you're being difficult."


End file.
